My Young Alcides eBook

which has withstood the temptation of strikes.
Of course, the world has much to do with the tone
of many. What amount of true and real religion
there may be, can only be tested by trial, and there
are many who do not show any signs of being influenced
by anything more than public opinion, some who fall
below that; but, as everyone knows, the Hydriot works
have come to be not only noted for the beauty and
excellence of their execution, and the orderliness,
intelligence, and sobriety of their artisans, but
for their large congregations, ample offertories,
and numerous communicants.

Of course all this would never have kept up but for
the Yollands. The Hydriots are wife, children,
everything to him who is now called Vicar of St.
Christopher’s, Mycening. He has refused
better preferment, for he has grown noted now, since
the work that Harold had begun is still the task
he feels his charge.

And whatever is good is led by the manager of the
works, whose influence over the workmen’s minds
has never failed. Even when he talked to me
on that day, I thought there was a change in his tone.
He had never sneered (at least in my hearing) nor
questioned other men’s faith, but when he told
me of Harold his manner had something of awe, as
well as of sorrow and admiration, and I could not but
think that a sense had dawned out that the spiritual
was a reality, and an absolute power over the material.

The great simple nature that had gradually and truly
undergone that influence had been watched and studied
by him, and had had its effect. The supernatural
had made itself felt, and thenceforth he made it
his study, in a quiet, unobtrusive manner, scarcely
known even to his brother, but gradually resulting
in heart-whole acceptance of faith, and therewith
in full devotion of heart and soul.

Did Harold rejoice in that victory, which to him would
have been one of the dearest of all?

CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION.

I must finish my story, though it seems hardly worth
telling, since my nephew, my tower of strength and
trust, had suddenly sunk away from me in the prime
of his manhood.

The light seemed gone out of the whole world, and
my heart felt dull and dead, as if I could never
heed or care for anything again. Even Dermot’s
illness did not seem capable of stirring me to active
anxiety in this crushed, stupid state, with no one
to speak to of what lay heavy on my heart, no one
even to write to; for who would venture to read my
letters? nay, I had not energy even to write to poor
Miss Woolmer. We got into a way of going on day
after day with Dora’s little meals, the backgammon,
and the Mayne Reid, till sometimes it felt as if
it had always been thus with us from all time, and
always would be; and at others it would seem as if
it were a dream, and that if I could but wake, I
should be making tea for Harold in our cheerful little
drawing-room at Mount Eaton. At last I had
almost a morbid dread of breaking up this monotonous
life, and having to think what to do or where to
go. The Randall Horsmans must long for our
departure, and my own house was in a state of purification,
and uninhabitable.